Staring at empty spaces
Time to empty your closets
To gift-wrap unravelled knots.
The rapture of catching up on rainbows
But soon the euphoria of the void evaporates
Time hangs heavy…
Is it back to the grind?
The backbiting and the strain…?
The shackles of mediocrity?
Or. . . to let in the wind and the rain
The call of faraway lands and of ventures new.